Okay, so if you really know me...it is obvious, I am NOT a cook. I am not very good at it and I don't particularly care for it.
I think my lack of enthusiasm began when the kids went off school and extracurricular activities began to run our lives. There was no longer time to "slice and dice" or "create a cream sauce". Meals became rushed and the "shove it in the oven" menu emerged.
Chicken nuggets, french fries, fish sticks, canned corn, and casseroles were our household staples...And my secret to quickly getting "meals to table"..... crank up the oven to 450.
This really did speed things up.
So much.... that I didn't even have to set a timer. And trust me, I could really make those 15-20 minutes of bake time count by throwing in a load of laundry, helping with homework or laying things out for our next harried day.
And when the smoke alarm went off, my family knew.... supper was ready.
We did actually sit down to eat our meals as a family and even managed some meaningful conversations...
I'm glad to say that we finally realized we needed to slow our pace, but my "quick" cooking habits remained. I think I convinced myself I couldn't cook anyway (that happens if the smoke alarm sounds to signify your meal is done).
Now, at 43...I have discovered I have gluten-intolerance (Celiac). That means no wheat, no store-bought bread, and for sure no chicken nuggets or fish sticks. So, I find myself in the kitchen...reading labels, trying new recipes, learning to cook. We'll see how it goes.
